


Allow Me to Exaggerate a Memory or Two

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fill, Trans Male Character, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-03-31 12:43:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3978508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>#6: Dave does not get a haircut, and that's okay.</p><p>Continually updated prompt fills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Helping Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #1: Karkat's move to Houston isn't at the most promising start. Thankfully, he runs into the city's shittiest skateboarder and is given a hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for 00jesse00 on tumblr: "a highschool au and dave and karkat r both trans and they meet at the lgbt club at school or whatevrr."
> 
> slightly played with "whateverr."

Karkat realized he was gay the second he heard Northern Downpour in eighth grade; one second of Ryan Ross and Brendon Urie harmonizing was all it took, and the rest is history. The band’s split hit him hard, but two years later he still loyally listens to Pretty Odd every night... or, walking home after the first day at his new school. He’s a junior and should be over this by now, but the songs nonetheless soothe an anxiety he does not want to admit he has.

 

Texas is hot. Karkat doesn’t mind. He likes the feeling of the sun on his neck, the sweat that rolls down his back. It roots him to the ground, makes him feel alive, whereas the cold is just miserable and dead.

 

“DUDE!”

 

Karkat doesn’t even have time to spin around before someone barrels into him. They fall down together against the cement, Karkat’s elbows scraping against the ground as the person grunts above him.

 

“Jesus,” Karkat groans.

 

“Shit.” The weight disappears from his chest and someone holds out their hand. “Sorry, man. Are you okay?”

 

Karkat stands on his own and dusts off his shorts. “Yeah.” He gingerly picks up his phone, which is blaring the lyrics to When the Day Met the Night, his earbuds lying dislodged a few inches away.

 

The boy is blonde and covered in freckles, hot pink skin evening out to a smooth tan. He puts on a pair of sunglasses and pulls his skateboard toward him by the toe of his shoe, flips it up into the air, and catches it. “You sure?”

 

Karkat nods. “You should probably practice riding more instead of cool show-off stuff.”

 

The boy’s eyes widen. He grins and shakes his head. “You’re that new kid, aren’t you? Hey, what is that?”

 

Karkat blushes and pauses the song. “Nothing.”

 

“No, seriously. It’s Panic at the Disco, right?”

 

“Uh...”

 

“Chill,” the boy snorts. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

 

“Right,” Karkat says, glancing at his sneakers.

 

“My name’s Dave.”

 

Karkat blinks at the bony hand proffered to him, palms skinned and prickling with blood. He takes it. “Karkat.”

 

“What a fuckin’ name.”

 

“Yeah, well.”

 

Dave falls instep beside him, hands shoved into his pockets. “Where’re you from?”

 

“Hawaii,” Karkat answers, “but I lived in Chicago since I was two.” He does not know why he’s holding a conversation. He hadn’t talked all day.

 

Dave’s voice is deep, laced with an accent he can’t quite hide. “No shit?”

 

“No shit,” Karkat confirms.

 

“Right on. Well, allow me to welcome you to Houston.” Dave bows and widely gestures around them. They are walking beneath an empty office building for sale across the street from a rundown car dealership.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“This is the finest city on the Earth.” Dave counts on his fingers. “We got cowboys, the Rockets, and the Mexican-American war.”

 

“And great skateboarding.”

 

Dave’s lips quirk. “That too. You’re funny, man.”

 

Karkat raises his eyebrows. “Really?”

 

Dave nods. “Seriously. Listen,” he pulls out something from the pocket of his cargo shorts and hands it over, “if you wanna hang out, come here.”

 

Karkat blinks down at a pamphlet emblazoned with a brick building and the words Reachout Youth. “Um, okay.”

 

“The people are real cool. I’m there every Thursday.” Dave drops his skateboard to the ground. “I’ll see ya at school.”

 

“Yeah,” Karkat says.

 

Dave pushes off and skates away with the lift of a hand, leaving as quick as he came.

 

Karkat’s new house is at the edge of town, where the streets melt into the suburbs. He jogs up the porch steps, bookbag bouncing against his back, and opens the front door. “I’m home, Dad,” he calls, tossing his bag onto the couch.

 

His older brother Kankri peeks out from the kitchen. “He’s not here.”

 

“It’s eighty degrees out,” Karkat frowns. “Take off the dumb sweater.”

 

“I have sensitive skin,” Kanrki defends. He is sitting at the table with a book..

 

“Sure.” Karkat opens the fridge and takes out a can of Coke.

 

“What is that?” Kankri asks.

 

“Oh.” Karkat leans against the counter and passes the brochure. “Someone from school gave it to me.”

 

Kankri hums. “This is an LGBTQ organization.”

 

“What!” Karkat snatches it back, flushing. “How could he...”

 

Kankri returns to his book. “This is a big city, Karkat. People don’t make assumptions either way.”

 

Karkat stuffs the paper into his pocket and gulps down soda, remembering how it felt when people finally figured out he and his brother were both major queers. “I guess.”

 

“Don’t worry about it. It won’t be like back home.”

 

“Ugh. I’m not talking about this.”

 

Kankri huffs. Karkat heads upstairs to his room, which as of now only has a bare bed and a bunch of boxes. He sits down, sets his soda atop the windowsill, and unfolds the pamphlet.

 

/

 

Karkat does not have any classes with Dave. Occasionally he sees him in the hallway, laughing and bumping shoulders with an indifferent blond girl whom appears to be his sister, but is too nervous to say anything. He is shaking in Kankri’s car when Thursday rolls around, hands clutched around his phone as he blasts Nine in the Afternoon.

 

Kankri gestures for him to pull out an earbud when they come to stop at the curb. “Are you okay?”

 

“Yes,” Karkat unconvincingly lies.

 

His brother rolls his eyes. “I told you. Calm down.”

 

“I am calm.”

 

“Are you ashamed of your identity?”

 

“Oh my god.”

 

“Well, what is it?”

 

“Nothing,” Karkat hisses.

 

Kankri drops it. Karkat awkwardly climbs out of the car.

 

He turns his head and grins at the sound of wheels bumping over the sidewalk. Dave stumbles to a stop before him, wearing a Rockets jersey and cheeky grin. “You came.”

 

“Duh,” Karkat says.

 

Dave leads him inside to a reception area with bright furniture and colorful bulletin boards. “This way,” he says, glancing over his shoulder. His ears are gauged, cartilage pierced with a silver ring, and a mole sits on his left cheekbone.

 

The corridor widens to another open room. Dave drops down onto a couch, setting his skateboard beside him on the rug. Karkat sits in the cushioned chair opposite of him.

 

“We’re early.” Dave pushes his sweaty bangs off his forehead, revealing pale, wiry armpit hair and the side of his binder peeking from the jersey. Karkat’s breath catches in his throat. He forces himself to stare at the coffee table between them, where an issue of FTM Magazine sits.

 

“Are you okay?” Dave asks, noticing Karkat’s jumpy eyes. “Sorry if I was being pushy.”

 

“No,” Karkat says a bit too loud. “I mean. You’re fine.”

 

“You don’t have to be nervous.”

 

Karkat falls back against the chair. “I lived in a suburb of Chicago. People were kind of shitty.”

 

Dave smiles. “I knew it.”

 

“What?” Karkat frowns.

 

“I have a top-notch radar.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“It’s not a bad thing.” Dave sits up; his clavicle peeks out from the collar of his jersey. “People are cool about it here. You don’t need to worry about shit like that. Not when you’re around me, at least.” He leans forward, elbows on the coffee table, and Karkat gravitates forward. “You see this?” Dave asks, lifting his fist. “Those scars on my knuckles?”

 

Karkat nods.

 

“Got ‘em in a fight!” Dave swings his arm forward, barely grazing Karkat’s stubby nose, and laughs brightly. His voice dips to an exaggerated drawl. “I have a reputation ‘round these parts.”

 

Karkat’s heart pace quickens. Is this what flirting feels like?

 

“I—Well, I didn’t just take crap sitting down.” Karkat taps the bridge of his nose. “Some kid called me a fag outside of Walmart. He broke my nose. I fucked up his arm, though. I have really sharp teeth.”

 

Dave chuckles again. “You’re a riot.”

 

Karkat’s heart melts.

 

“My big brother is gay,” Dave says, “and he taught me how to fight.”

 

“All my brother does is read. When he gets pissed off he sends argumentative essays.”

 

“The pen is mightier than the sword,” Dave surmises.

 

“If you’re a fucking wimp, sure.”

 

“Damn. I like you, dude.” Dave leans back in the couch, lacing his hands behind the nape of his neck. His armpit hair is oddly arousing.

 

“I, uh, like you too.” Karkat coughs. “Thanks for bringing me here. Especially since I’m new.”

 

Dave waves him off. “Don’t sweat it.”

 

Karkat sweats anyways. The whole night. More people begin filing in. Dave stays by his side the entire time, explaining they mostly just hang out until a serious talk starts where kids vent about the stuff that’s happened to them since last week. Dave doesn’t say much but listens intently, and offers weirdly insightful advice, though his vocabulary is limited to “chill,” “relax,” and “let it go, bro.”

 

It’s cooled down once they head back outside. Dave waits with Kakart, leaning against the wall of the building. “Did you have fun?” he asks.

 

Karkat nods. “It was nice.” He wants to add “especially with you there,” but doesn’t.

 

Dave lifts his hand to slide his shades up, which have been over his eyes all night. “Thats good, man.” His irises are candy red. Karkat does not comment, and Dave gives him a look that seems pleased.

 

Karkat opens his mouth to say something, anything about how much Dave has helped him in just a few days time. But before he can he sees Kankri’s car coming down the street.

 

“I like you,” he blurts. “I mean—fuck. You helped me out. A lot.” He fists his hands at his sides, burning with embarrassment.

 

Dave smiles. His eyes crinkle at the corners. “You too,” is all he says. And with a curt salute, he is skating out of sight yet again.

 

Karkat collapses into the passenger seat beside his brother, who looks at Dave’s retreating form over his shoulder. “Is that your new friend?” he asks.

 

Karkat watches the back of Dave’s jersey disappear in the right side mirror. “Oh, yeah.”


	2. Insecurity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #2: Karkat lets down a few walls during a slow day at the beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for an anon, who wanted "anything with karkat being insecure about his body." hope i delivered! my tumblr is http://transdavekat.tumblr.com/ if you want to send a request, or leave one in a comment.

They’ve taken a stop at a dream bubble with Jade’s island. It’s hot and humid. Karkat and Dave are languishing in the shade, secluded from everyone else a mile down the beach. Dave’s taken his shirt off. It’s not the first time, but his shoulders are still tense. Karkat presses against his arm, wordlessly sets a hand against his thigh, and he relaxes.

 

“What do I look like to you?” Dave asks quietly.

 

Karkat glances at him. He is staring out at the water. “What do you mean?”

 

“Just tell me.”

 

Karkat swallows. His hand trails up Dave’s shorts to his freckled ribcage, underneath his breast. “You have thin skin. You wouldn’t last a second back home.”

 

“Ah, well. I got a hot troll to protect me.”

 

Karkat cups his hand against Dave’s scapula. “I like your freckles.” He runs his fingertips down the length of Dave’s arm. “You’re soft.”

 

“Can I see you?”

 

Karkat looks away. “Why?”

 

“I want to.”

 

The heat must have melted Dave’s brain. He is ludicrous, soft spoken, and sentimental. His shades are beside him in the sand. His red irises pierce Karkat’s, which are slowly beginning to color.

 

“I think you’re really pretty,” he whispers.

 

Karkat crosses his arms, shoulders hunching.

 

“I like your hair.” Dave cards his fingers through it, from Karkat’s horns to the nape of his neck. “It’s weird. It doesn’t feel like human hair. But I like it.”

 

He sets his hand against the collar of Karkat’s shirt. “I’ve never seen you. Not really. Only when we make out.”

 

“Maybe I want to keep it that way,” Karkat says.

 

“Maybe it would be better if you didn’t.”

 

Karkat turns his head to look at him. “Stop it, Dave.”

 

“No. Do you know how hard it was for me to do this?”

 

“To do what?” Karkat feigns obliviousness, though he can feel the fabric of Dave’s shirt where it was tossed beside his ankle.

 

“Look at me, asshole.” Karkat does. “You know what I’m talking about. I was fucked up for a long time.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I want to help you,” Dave says. The sunlight dapples through the palm trees onto his skin. His eyebrows furrow. “You don’t trust me, do you?”

 

“I don’t get why this is such a big deal,” Karkat mutters, watching the tide fold itself inside-out over the sand.

 

“It’s because I love you.”

 

Karkat blinks at Dave.

 

“You can’t pretend to make me feel better then hide everything from me.”

 

“I’m not pretending.”

 

“Then prove it.”

 

“Fine!” Karkat tears his t-shirt over his head. “Are you happy?” He curls his legs up, to hide his red gills and heavy chest.

 

Dave touches his back. “Why are you scared?”

 

“Would you leave me alone?”

 

“No.”

 

Karkat grits his teeth, forehead pressed against his knees. “I hate you sometimes.”

 

“I’d be pretty bored if you didn’t.” Dave grins. He shifts closer and wraps his arm around Karkat’s shoulder.

 

Karkat peeks up at him through his bangs.

 

“Do you know what I like about you?” Dave asks. “I like how you don’t take shit from anyone. I like how you care about everyone so much. I like how our eyes are gonna match.” He rubs his thumb against Karkat’s neck. “Look at me, dude. I know how it feels. Okay?”

 

“Okay,” Karkat says.

 

Dave pecks him on the cheek. “It’s just us. It’s just me.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“You alright?”

 

Karkat nods.

 

Dave takes his hand and stands. Karkat follows. The sun is warm on his back, a tenth of the heat from Alternia, but warm nonetheless. His gills flare out when his feet touch the water. Dave squeezes his hand. Fish swim around their feet.

 

Dave beams as a wave towers above them. Karkat tightens his grip on Dave’s hand and digs his heels into the sand, squeezing his toes around the shards of sea shells. Dave laughs as the water crashes into them, wrapping around Karkat, else he’d fall over. Karkat shakes the water out of his hair as the ocean calms around them again.

 

Dave dives under. Karkat has no choice but to go in after him. He can hear Dave’s feet kicking ahead and feel the waves crash above him as his gills filter oxygen. Seaweed and shells sitting on the sand scrape his knees and the top of his feet. Dave resurfaces but Karkat stays under, feeling for the sand bar.

 

He sits up once the sand inclines. Water swarms around his shoulders. Dave swims toward him, digs his knees into the sand between his legs.

 

“Hi,” Dave says.

 

“Hi,” Karkat says.

 

Water falls from his gills in thin rivets. Dave looks down, brushing one with his hand, and Karkat swallows, pressing his palm against Dave’s sternum, between his breasts.

 

“This is so gay,” Dave whispers.

 

“Sure,” Karkat says.

 

They kiss.

 

Karkat falls back against the water. His chest rises with his breath, his gills open and close against the waves around them. Dave rests on top of him. An involuntary purr rumbles in Karkat’s chest as he stares at the fake, blue sky around them.

 

He’s okay.


	3. Last Second Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #3: Dave woke up after the game's final battle, dying and confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not from a specific prompt, i just wanted to mess around with style and tossed it in here. a real prompt fill will be coming shortly.

When Dave awoke all he could see was a thick haze of black smoke. Blood was caked on his god tier outfit, and his cape was torn and tangled with debris. Bloody wounds underneath his torn shirt stuck to the mangled fabric.

 

He and Terezi had lured their Jack into another realm with one of Roxy’s windows. A dream bubble, blue and crystalline. “It’s Aradia’s planet,” Terezi told him when they were finalizing their plan with Vriska.

 

Dave did not have time to take in his surroundings once they arrived. They’d landed in a flat plane, surrounded by arcs of jagged crystal that shifted from blue to indigo to pink in the light. Dave thought it wouldn’t be too bad to die here. It was a beautiful place.

 

He tried to not think of Karkat. Terezi fought valiantly beside him.

 

Then something happened.

 

Dave coughed into his shoulder and slowly sat up. Blood oozed past infantile scabs and soaked his shirt. His chest heaved with shallow breaths. He couldn’t see anything, couldn’t see the crystal or Terezi or Jack.

 

He screwed his eyes shut and tried to think, but for the life of him couldn’t remember anything. Maybe he was dead. Maybe he and Terezi won, then collapsed from fatigue.

 

The smoke began to dissipate. Roxy’s window became visible with its faint glow.

 

Dave waved a hand through the air, as if that could help anything. His shades were gone, broken somewhere. He didn’t care anymore. One arm wrapped around his wounds, he used the other to support himself as he stood.

 

“Dave, don’t!”

 

Someone ran forward and caught him as he fell. He wheezed and became unconscious again.

 

Dave opened his eyes for a second time.

 

“Don’t move.”

 

Someone pressed their hand against his shoulder. It was Rose. She was watching him with wary eyes. Beside her Jane was on her knees, hands hovering against Dave’s wound.

 

“What happened?” Dave asked.

 

“You won.” Rose smiled. “That’s all you need to know.”

 

Dave tried to lift his head, then let it drop back down. The ground was soft. Warm. It was grass.

 

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What—”

 

“Everyone did their part,” Rose assured him. “It’s okay now.”

 

“Where are we?”

 

“Home.”

 

Dave blinked. He could feel Jane’s powers working through his injuries, a soft burn as his skin regrew. The sky above him was blue, no clouds in sight. The sun was warm against his skin. He hadn’t felt a real sun in almost five years. He hadn’t felt real grass in almost five years. They were in an open field.

 

“Are we on Earth?” he asked Rose.

 

She nodded.

 

Dave’s eyes widened. He lurched upward.

 

“Dave—” Jane exclaimed.

 

“What happened to the trolls?” he demanded.

 

Rose held his shoulders. “They’re fine. Dave, look at me.” Rose held his gaze. “We made a new universe.”

 

“But...” Dave’s mind whirled. He felt like he was going to puke. He gagged and spit at the ground.

 

Suddenly someone was shouting his name. Dave lifted his head and turned. His heart caught in his chest.

 

Karkat collapsed beside him in the tall grass. He was in a god tier outfit, just like Dave’s but brown. Dave stared at him, too overwhelmed to speak. Karkat held him against his chest and began to cry into his hair.

 

Dave closed his eyes. Karkat was strong against him, real and tangible, heartbeat steady.

 

“You idiot.” Karkat pulled back and held Dave’s face with his large, clawed hands as fat tears fell from his eyes. “You...” He trailed off.

 

Jane moved beside them. “Dave, your wounds are going to reopen. It’ll only take a second for me to finish.”

 

Dave laid against Karkat’s chest. Karkat’s chin was in the crook of his neck, and Dave could feel his jaw clench at the half-healed gashes cut across his stomach; Karkat tightened his grip.

 

It seemed to be mid afternoon. As the day waned Dave’s memory pieced itself back together. Jack was weakened; he desperately swung at Terezi, Dave shoved her away to sacrifice himself, smacked his head so hard against the crystal it cracked, and ended up with a concussion.

 

Now they were here, in the middle of nowhere, but home, whatever that meant. Rose and Jane had gotten to Dave at the last minute, so they appeared together. Karkat was separated from Kanaya after they completed their objective, so he’d been alone but somehow found them.

 

As night fell Rose and Jane started a fire, leaving Karkat and Dave some privacy. Karkat insisted on cocooning Dave in his arms. Dave was still unused to the god tier garb, its touch and feel, but it suited Karkat more than his ratty sweaters ever did.

 

Karkat kept slipping his hand underneath Dave’s shirt, running his fingertips across fresh, thick scars. His palm moved back and forth across Dave’s stomach as he talked.

 

“I woke up a mile away,” he whispered. “After Kanaya and I got the Matriorb one of the Jacks tried getting in the way. Kanaya had the Matriorb; I told her to run. I handled Jack but by then it was too late to try to find her. I was all alone.”

 

“How did you find us?” Dave asked.

 

Karkat’s stared at the lightning bugs around them. It was warm; it felt like summer.

 

“My Blood powers... They’re more complex than I thought they’d be. But I was still right about some stuff. When I woke up all I could think about was you. I had to know if you were okay. Then I felt this... thing. Like I could hear you, but there was nothing.” Karkat’s hand stilled on top of Dave’s. “I just kept walking, and the closer I got the stronger I felt it. I knew it was you. And when I saw Jane and Rose—” He paused, squeezing Dave’s fingers. “I thought you were dead.”

 

Dave rolled onto his back. He was sore all over. Across the field, he could hear Rose and Jane’s fire start to crackle.

 

“I’m not dead.”

 

“I know.”

 

Dave turned. “Neither are you. That’s all that matters.”

 

Cicadas were chirping in the trees. Karkat closed his eyes. As Dave watched him fall asleep he felt like he was home, for the first time in almost five years.


	4. The Apple Juice Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #4: Karkat has been disappearing, and Dave is finally fed up with it--but what he finds isn't what he was expecting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for an anon who wanted dave finding karkat during a panic attack. this one is a bit shorter than usual, but i think it is nice as it is.

Dave is alone in the commons, angrily stewing on the couch with his laptop in front of him. It’s been the third night in a row Karkat has stood him up—not that they’re dating. They just have an unspoken agreement to meet each night and watch movies, sometimes falling asleep on top of each other; but all best bros do that, of course.

 

Dave stands, determined to get to the bottom of this. He stuffs his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, bare feet slapping against the cold metal floor of the meteor as he walks down the corridor, abandoning his computer. It is silent. Everyone else is asleep.

 

He tries to remember the route toward Karkat’s room. It’s an off-limits zone. Dave has only been there a few times, and Karkat’s rarely gone to his bedroom, either: tt’s too intimate, allowing neither of them to pretend what’s between them is something less than it actually is.

 

Dave ignores this as he walks, the black hallway a gaping chasm around him. Alone, the meteor is eerie, filled with distant hums and groans of unceasing machinery. The atmosphere turns Dave’s annoyance into anxious trepidation. He starts walking faster, but slows when he rounds a corner, at the sound of stuttered breath.

 

“Karkat?” he asks. Naturally, there’s no reply. As he moves forward, Karkat’s breathing escalates to hyperventilation. Dave’s heart stops. The shifting gears from the core of the meteor make him think of death, seizures, walking in and finding a corpse. He runs to Karkat’s door and rams it open with his shoulder.

 

It’s dark, smaller than Dave remembers. He stumbles over books, nicks the heel of his foot against a sickle. Karkat is huddled on the ground, tangled in blankets, entire body heaving.

 

Dave kneels beside him and takes his shoulders. “Karkat—Karkat, wake up!”

 

Sweaty hair is plastered to Karkat’s temples, his horns. Dave digs his blunt nails into Karkat’s thick alien skin. “Shit—fuck—” He lifts his head, looking around for something that might help him, then rifles through his sylladex and finds a bottle of alchemized apple juice.

 

“Please don’t hate me,” he mutters, then dumps the juice onto Karkat’s face.

 

Karkat eyes shoot open; as Dave scrambles back he lurches upward, shaking and gagging, and tosses off his blankets. He scowls at Dave through his tangled hair. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

 

“Is this why you aren’t showing up?” Dave asks. “I came to find you.”

 

“Get out!”

 

“You should’ve told me,” Dave says. “God, how long has it been happening?”

 

Karkat grits his teeth and looks away, smearing the juice off his face with the collar of his shirt. “Awhile.”

 

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

 

“Because I’m fucking fine.” Karkat lobs the empty plastic bottle and it ricochets off Dave’s shoulder; he shudders and drops his face in his hands.

 

Dave cautiously crawls closer. “Look at me.”

 

Karkat glares at him through his clawed fingers, red tears gathering in his eyes.

 

Dave lifts his hand and sets it against the back of Karkat’s neck, rubs his thumb against Karkat’s curls. “It’s okay,” he whispers.

 

Karkat drops his hands and turns into Dave’s embrace. Dave circles his other arm around Karkat’s back and rocks him slowly.

 

“It’s you,” Karkat confesses. “Every night. You’re dead.”

 

Dave presses his nose against Karkat’s hair, unsure of what to say; maybe this is enough.


	5. Bad Messiahs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #5: Karkat struggles in accepting everything he always wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry ive been gone for MONTHS. i had really rough mental health in june, went on vacation for a week, started an internship, wrote an original short story in a whole week, left for another weekend, and now im here. 
> 
> i had a real prompt fill going but accidentally deleted it, so take this thing i whipped up for myself, inspired by recent updates. i want to explore davepeta with dave and karkat again soon.... 
> 
> please dont look for any specific context, plot, or speculation, because there is none. also, if youre unsatisfied with the ending, dont worry--dave and karkat are too
> 
> enjoy!

One year after the game’s end and Karkat is still the motherfucking messiah. Dave can tell he is sick of it: the leadership, the burden, the role-modeling. Karkat wanted to be important, to make a difference, and he got the wish of a lifetime.

 

“My ancestor would know what to do,” Karkat says one night near the campfire. “He was the one who lead a revolution. Not me. This is such fucking bullshit.”

 

Everyone else is on the other side of camp, separate from Karkat’s big tent. They’re currently stationed somewhere in Kansas, like a bunch of nomad hippies with a new mindfuck religion; instead, they’re idiot traumatized kids with the weight of an alien race on their shoulders. Same difference.

 

Dave stokes the logs in front of them, focusing on the crackle and pop of the embers. “Do you think they’re still out there? Like. All the dead ones, in the dream bubbles? Does any of it exist anymore?”

 

“Shit, Dave,” Karkat spits. “I don’t know. I have bigger things to worry about.”

 

“Damn. Alright.” Dave tosses the stick in with the rest of the lumber and stands to leave.

 

“Wait.” Karkat takes his hand. “I’m sorry.”

 

Dave sighs, sits back down, and cradles Karkat’s palm. His gray skin is calloused and worn by hours of sparring. Everyone thought it would never amount to anything, but Dave knew they were wrong.

 

“We haven’t practiced in awhile,” he says, voice gruff. How old is he, now, nineteen? Twenty? Shit. He should’ve alchemized a year’s supply of testosterone shots before the end of the game.

 

He slides his hands to Karkat’s shoulders, digging his thumbs into Karkat’s neck. “Maybe we should sneak out to the forest. You’re pretty tense.”

 

Karkat’s muscles unwind under his touch. “Are you saying we should fuck or spar?”

 

“I don’t know.” Dave smirks. “Both?”

 

“Huh. An interesting proposal.”

 

Someone shuffles around the thicket of trees; Karkat bites back a sigh and looks away. Dave’s hands still.

 

Vriska storms over and kicks the fire to shambles.

 

“What’s up, you fucking bulgelicker son of a bitch?”

 

“Hello,” Karkat mutters. “Can I help you?”

 

Vriska crosses her arms. “When are we actually going to do shit? I’m sick of walking around this garbage planet.”

 

“Wow.” Karkat throws his hands up. “How about I take my handy spaceship out of my pocket and we fly off tomorrow morning?”

 

“I’m serious,” Vriska hisses. “That snake bitch thought you were some tough shit? Well, I don’t buy it. I was the one who got us here. You know I should be in charge!”

 

Dave narrows his eyes. “Last I recall, that was just orchestrating a game. This is real life now. We don’t need your evil mastermind ass bossing us around. We need someone who has at least a semblance of humanity.”

 

“I’m a troll,” Karkat mumbles.

 

“You get my fucking point!” Dave yells.

 

“Shut the fuck up, Strider,” Vriska snaps. “You’re a damn liar. Just because you’re his four-quadrant fuck boy doesn’t mean you have to sugarcoat it. You don’t believe in him either. At least I got shit done.”

 

Karkat grits his teeth.

 

Dave’s eyes widen. “Are you actually listening to her? You know that’s not true!”

 

“I don’t know what’s true anymore!” Karkat says. He rises and vanishes into the trees.

 

Vriska smirks after him.

 

Dave stands and jabs a finger into her chest. “Fuckin’ proud, are you?”

 

“Yeah, I kind of am.”

 

He slaps her across the face. “Stupid bitch.”

 

“You’re going to regret that,” she promises as he follows Karkat’s direction.

 

He flips her off before entering the forest.

 

“Karkat?” Dave calls, ducking under low hanging branches. It is dark, the moonlit sky swamped with leaves. After all this time, it puts Dave on edge; he keeps a hand on the hilt of his sword. “Karkat!”

 

He feels a rush of air and parries the blow with his sword; Karkat swings around and slashes at his back. Dave elbows him into a tree, but Karkat rolls away before getting cornered.

 

“Talk to me,” Dave says, blood oozing down his back.

 

Karkat shoulders Dave’s sternum, driving him to the ground. “Fuck you!” He throws away his sickles and winds back a fist.

 

Dave catches his wrist. “Stop it. Just stop.”

 

Karkat sneers, but falters when Dave cups his jaw, pupils retracting into mature red irises.

 

“C’mere,” Dave murmurs, tucking Karkat against his chest. Karkat grips his sleeves and says nothing.

 

A fallen tree has given way to an empty piece of sky. Dave stares up at the stars.

 

“You know, back in Houston, there was all that pollution. I’d see a plane if I was lucky.” Karkat remains silent. “I remember the first time we went into a dream bubble with Jade’s island. She was so far away from anything. I never knew that many stars existed.”

 

Karkat rolls onto his side, Dave’s arms still wound around him, and looks up. “It is kind of pretty,” he whispers.

 

“Hey, look at me.” Dave turns Karkat’s head. “Fuck Vriska. Fuck everybody. They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

 

“I don’t either,” Karkat admits. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

 

“None of us do. You think Vriska is some genius? She only manipulates people to get what she wants.” Dave pushes Karkat’s bangs back. “You’re supposed to do this.”

 

“Okay.” Karkat closes his eyes. “Okay.”

 

A bright light enters Dave’s peripheral. He purses his lips.

 

“Hey,” Davepeta says.

 

Karkat lifts his head. “Oh. Hi.”

 

“Vriska came back really mad. After a few minutes I came to check on you, and you were gone.”

 

“I got it,” Dave assures.

 

Davepeta frowns.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to you in a bit,” Karkat says.

 

Dave sighs once Davepeta leaves. “This is such bullshit.”

 

“I thought we talked about this? Just—never mind.” Karkat lays back down on Dave’s chest. “I’m not doing this right now.”

 

“Sorry,” Dave apologizes. He looks back at the stars. “I love you.”

 

Karkat pauses. “You too.”

 


	6. Haircuts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #6: Dave does not get a haircut, and that's okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by swetbag's awesome art! thanks again 2 m'boy roob

 

 

Dave stands in front of the mirror, touching the ends of his curls, blond hair dye all but faded out. He glances back at Karkat, who is strewn across his bed.

 

“Have we let ourselves go?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“I think the meteor is getting to me.”

 

Karkat rolls his eyes and sits up. “What are you talking about?”

 

“We look like garbage.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“No—I mean, like… I need a haircut. And so do you.”

 

Karkat scowls and stands beside Dave. “I do not.”

 

Dave raises an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

 

“Maybe I like my hair this way.” Karkat runs a hand through his bangs to prove his point; they flop back down over his eyes, and he angrily shoves them away.

 

Dave tugs at the locks fallen over Karkat's shoulders. “Dude, I can braid this.”

 

“You did, remember? That one night we were half asleep.”

 

“I don't remember that.”

 

“It was when Terezi drew all over your face after you passed out.”

 

“Oh.” Dave reddens. “Yeah.”

 

Karkat snorts. “Are you trying to impress someone?”

 

“I wanna look nice.”

 

“We're on hunk of rock hurtling through space.”

 

“So what?” Dave snaps.

 

Karkat takes him to the bed by his arm. “Sit down, you wriggler.”

 

Dave claps his hands over his head. “I'm not letting you do it.”

 

“Who else is there?” Karkat asks, rummaging around Dave's room, trying to find a pair of scissors.

 

“I'll do it myself.”

 

“What?”

 

“Yeah. It'll be fine.”

 

“Just trust me,” Karkat says, softly. He sits behind Dave. “I'm not going to stab you.”

 

“I didn't think you would,” Dave mumbles.

 

“You're my matesprit,” Karkat reiterates seriously. “Of course I wouldn't.”

 

Dave changes topics. “Did you find the scissors?”

 

“Under your underwear, yeah.”

 

“Ew, what the fuck?”

 

“Ask yourself that question.”

 

Karkat snips off a few stray curls at the nape of Dave's neck, making Dave flinch. He pauses. “Are you alright?”

 

Dave nods, shoulders tense. “Just keep going.”

 

Karkat frowns. “Okay.”

 

“Actually, nevermind.” Dave jerks away and scrambles toward the edge of the bed.

 

“Dave, what's wrong?” Karkat demands.

 

“I don't like gettin my hair cut, aight? It's no big deal.”

 

Karkat sets the scissors down and moves next to him. “Why?”

 

“It's nothing,” Dave insists.

 

“My lusus could never hold scissors,” Karkat says. “He just used his claws.”

 

Dave smirks. “Nice.”

 

Karkat bumps his shoulder. “What happened?”

 

“I dunno. Nothing. I mean…” Dave purses his lips. “I think it was Bro's stupid sword shit. Just seeing sharp things scared me. He gave up trying to convince me. It was only until people kept thinking I was a girl all the time I finally did it myself. I was, like, twelve.” Dave shakes his head. “It's stupid.”

 

“No, it's not.” Karkat turns. “Look. From what I've heard about your older brother, he sounds like a real jackass, and you have every right to be traumatized.”

 

“Was that supposed to be comforting?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Dave grins. “Well, it kinda was.”

 

Karkat runs a claw from Dave's hairline to his jaw. “I like your hair long.”

 

“I'm reinventing myself.”

 

“Can I braid it?”

 

Dave crosses his legs. “Go for it.”

 

Karkat smiles, the way he does when they are alone and he gets excited. “Kanaya told me about human hairstyles Rose showed her.”

 

“Uh huh?”

 

He uses a claw to section off a chunk of Dave's hair, and begins to twist it with surprising ease. “She called it a twist out.”

 

Dave closes his eyes as Karkat focuses on braiding thick lengths of hair. He's never messed with any special hairstyles, so the feeling of his hair being twisted and turned is new, but not uncomfortable. Karkat's claws scrape against his scalp and send goosebumps running down his arms.

 

“I'm almost done,” Karkat announces later, jerking Dave out of his half-asleep daze.

 

“Oh,” Dave says, blinking. “Cool.”

 

“Are you tired?” Karkat asks, working at the nape of Dave's neck.

 

“No. It just feels nice.”

 

“Well, I can do it more often.”

 

“Really?” Dave asks.

 

Karkat secures the last twist. “Yeah.”

 

Dave turns around so they face each other, knees touching. “I'd like that.”

 

Karkat nods toward the mirror. “Look.”

 

Dave looks over his shoulder, eyebrows shooting up. Six fat braids lie against the left side of his head. “Damn.”

 

“You have to keep them in for awhile.” Karkat touches Dave's knee. “We could watch some movies.”

 

Dave turns back, swallowing. “Sure.”

 

The next morning Karkat undoes the braids, leaving Dave's hair in clean chunky curls.

 

Dave smiles and ruffle's Karkat's hair. “Thanks, but I don't think there's any fixing you, though.”

 


End file.
